Night of the Living Broccoli
by wiccanwerewolf669
Summary: Harold, Howie, and Chester had thought everything was as normal as it gets around the Monroe household. When one night, Bunnicula the vampire bunny is stolen! The three are on the case to find the missing bunny before it's to late. Join them on their newest wakey adventure to rescue their friend. You must read the Bunnicula series to get this story! or just go to wikipedia. ha
1. The Night It All Began

Peace is bliss as they say. It was that faithful Friday night in the Monroe household, when my world was turned upside down once again. I was feeling so peaceful and Friday's mean snacks and a late night read in Toby's room. And chocolate cupcakes with the cream in the center. Yum, my favorite. The night was just starting and Toby was pulling out the thick volume of _Frankenstein_ by Mary Shelley.

"Well, Harold, are you ready?" he asked me. I drooled on his leg a little to tell him yes. Toby laughed and rested his hand on my back. I closed my eyes and listened to Toby read aloud. Every once in a while he would pause to snack, which meant my favorite treat, the chocolate cupcake with cream in the middle.

We were at the part where Dr. Frankenstein and his assistant Igor were using lightening to bring life to his monster. A giant crack of thunder rattled the room and Toby and I jumped.

"Wow, Harold, that was sure a coincidence," Toby said. His voice shook and I licked his hand. "Thanks boy," he whispered. He was leaning down to give me hug when it happened. _Crash!_ Toby jumped away and I yelped. Seeing how frightened Toby was, I ran downstairs to investigate. I heard Howie's howling and Chester hissing.

"Howie? Chester?" I cried. The living room was empty, and I saw the light in the kitchen on. Before I went into the kitchen I checked on Bunnicula. He sat trembling in his cage, his red eyes terrified. I was happy he was safe, even if scared. I then went into the kitchen. I burst in the door and stopped at what I saw. Chester was sitting on the table, licking his tail and Howie sat shivering on the floor. Glass, water, and flowers lay scattered on the floor.

"What happened?" I asked between Howie's howls. Chester looked at me and shook his head.

"I-I-I decided I w-w-wanted to play a l-l-late night game of tag with P-P-Pop and chased him in h-h-here. He jumped on the t-t-table and, and accidentally dropped the vase. I s-s-stepped on some of the glass," Howie whimpered. He lifted his front right paw to reveal a shard of glass stuck in his paw pad.

"What was that crash?" came the voice of Mrs. Monroe. She and Mr. Monroe opened the door and gasped. "Oh, poor Howie!" she exclaimed.

"Must have been playing and the vase fell," Mr. Monroe concluded. Mrs. Monroe gently picked up the wire-haired dachshund. He whined in her arms.

"We'll take you to the vet tomorrow to get it removed," she said. She looked at Chester and me. "Maybe we should bring the other's too, just to make sure they don't have any glass either." A shiver went up my spine and I whimpered as well.

"Oh, don't worry Harold, all your shots were done last time. We are just checking to see if you were hurt by the glass," Mr. Monroe concluded. I sighed in relief and I wagged my tail. "That's a good boy." The two left and Chester jumped down from the table. He and I walked out of the kitchen together to see Mrs. Monroe heading up the stairs with Howie. He was wrapped in a blanket and still whimpering.

"You can sleep in our room tonight Howie," she cooed to the small dog. When they had disappeared up the stairs, Chester jumped in his favorite chair and curled his tail around his paws. I looked at him.

"How could you let Howie get hurt?" I asked.

"He wanted to play, and I didn't. So he chased me and I ran into the kitchen. I didn't remember the Monroe's putting those flowers on the table. I bumped into them and it tumbled over the side. Howie came charging in and before I could warn him he stepped on the exposed glass," Chester said. I looked up the stairs as Chester began walking in circles and kneading to get comfortable.

"I hope he is okay," I said to my cat friend. When I turned to look at him he was already sleeping. I walked up the stairs and jumped onto Toby's bed. He wrapped his arms around my neck.

"Howie will be okay, won't he boy?" Toby asked. He was such a sensitive kid and I licked his cheek. He smiled and rubbed that spot between my ears. I panted and his smile broadened. "Thanks, boy." He curled up under his blankets and sighed. "Good night, Harold," he whispered and fell asleep. I closed my eyes and drifted off as well.


	2. Gone!

I was awaken in the morning by a pounding on Toby's door. "Squirt! Wake up and bring smelly old Harold with you! We are going to the vet!" Pete, Toby's older brother shouted. Toby sat up and rubbed his eyes. He patted my head before climbing out of his bed.

"Alright, Harold, lets get going." He grabbed some clothing and walked back up to me. He gave me a hug and whispered in my ear, "And you aren't a smelly old dog." I drooled and he patted my head.

Within a few minutes we were all loaded into the families station wagon and were off to the vet. Chester looked at me from the inside of his cat carrier.

"I don't see the point in why we need to go when it was Howie who was injured," he grumbled from inside. I stayed quiet, trying not to get sick from the bumps we drove over. We finally arrived and were all rushed inside. Chester and I got off scott free while Howie had to get stitches in his paw. He came out with a cone on his head and a thick wrap on the paw. While the Mr. Monroe paid Howie limped his way over to us.

"Hey Pop and Uncle Harold!" he said.

"How is your paw?" I asked him. He lifted it and tried to see it around his cone.

"It itches a lot and kind of stings, but the thing that's really bothering me is this thing around my neck," he said. He scratched at it with his hind paw. He became exceedingly frustrated and growled. "What is this, Pop?" he asked Chester. It still throws me that he calls Chester Pop and me Uncle Harold. Chester stared out from his kennel and looked at the dachshund.

"It's a cone Howie. The vet uses it to keep rowdy animals from ripping out their stitches," Chester explained. Howie's ears perked up and Mrs. Monroe picked him up. Pete grabbed Chester's box and Toby put on my leash. Howie looked at me as we were loaded into the car.

"What's rowdy mean Uncle Harold?" he asked me. I gave him a blank look and we both turned to Chester. The cat sighed and disappeared into the darkness of his kennel.

"It means noisy or rough, a person or animal that is unruly, or difficult to control," Chester concluded. Howie still looked confused but didn't say anything.

We arrived home and went inside. Mrs. Monroe almost dropped poor Howie is her shock. "We've been robbed!" she cried. The boys ran in and gasped.

"We need to check and see if anything was stolen," Mr. Monroe tried to say calmly. "I'll call the police," he said and walked into the kitchen. Pete let Chester out before he ran upstairs to check his room. That was when we all got a good look at the place.

The living room was a mess. Books were strewn all over the place, furniture was overturned, and muddy footprints littered the floor. We all stared in disbelief. Why would someone want to rob our home? We are just a humble, middle class family. I walked forward slowly, not wanting to believe what my eyes were telling me.

"What h-h-happened?" Howie stuttered, gingerly limping forward. Chester seemed to be in shock about the situation. They followed me into the living room. I made sure not to step on any evidence. Chester stopped and stared at one of the foot prints.

"Harold," he whispered. I stopped and turned to look at him. He pointed to the print. "Does this look like a normal human footprint to you?" he asked. I walked over to him and looked down. The print was about three times the size of Mr. Monroe's. Before he could make any conclusions though, we heard Howie's frightened yelp.

"Pop! Uncle Harold!" he shouted. We ran over to him. He was sitting in disbelief in front of Bunnicula's cage. "He's, he's," Howie couldn't finish the statement. I started barking frantically, drawing the Monroe's attention.

"Mom, what's are the dogs barking about?" Pete hollered from the stairs. They all came into the living room.

"Nothing was stolen from upstairs, Mom," Toby said as the brothers walked in.

"Nothing from the other rooms," Mrs. Monroe said. "What is the matter with you guys?" she said to us. We looked at them and back at the cage. Toby came over to try and calm us down.

"What's wrong guys, why are you bark…" he trailed off when he saw what was inside. "Mom! Bunnicula, he's gone!"

The police came and we were kicked out while they investigated. Chester brooded under Mrs. Monroe's rose bushes while Howie and I sunned ourselves. After a few minutes, Chester wandered out to us and started bathing himself.

"I think I know what stole Bunnicula," he said between licks.

"Don't you mean who?" I asked. He shook his head and continued.

"The culprit has huge shoes, we know that much, and isn't all that smart, seeing as he left all that mess and evidence. And if he was only looking for our furry vampire friend, he must be working for someone," Chester said.

"What took Bunnicula then Pops?" Howie asked. Chester continued to bathe as he answered.

"Well, being as he's so huge, he can't be human….."

"So it's Bigfoot!" Howie exclaimed. Chester gave him a withering look.

"No, Howie. Let me finish. He is not human, meaning that he would have to be created, made," he continued. Chester always frustrates me when he does this.

"Chester, will you please tell us who you think stole Bunnicula?" I pressed.

"Not who, what. And he is the one and only," he gave us a dramatic pause while he licked his tail. I resisted the urge to bite him. "That it is Frankenstein's Monster." Howie gasped and started to run in frantic circles. He momentarily forgot about his stitches.

"Oh no! That's terrible! What's will become of Bunnicula?" He stopped and looked at Chester and me. "What's Frankenstein's Monster?" Chester sighed and rubbed his nose with a paw.

"Frankenstein's Monster is a creation made by Dr. Frankenstein and his assistant Igor. They created him out of body parts they robbed from graves in the middle of the night. They brought him to life in a lightening storm and harnessed the power of the electricity and brought the creature to life. But the experiment went terribly wrong when the Monster went on a rampage and started killing all of the townspeople," Chester clarified. A look of pure terror reflected on poor Howie's face and I jumped in.

"But it is pure fiction, Howie, Toby has been reading it to me and it is by a woman named Mary Shelley," I told him. He relaxed a bit. Chester gave me a look before continuing to bathe himself.

"So you think," he said ominously, and a shiver went up my spine.


	3. A Plan

The family seemed out of whack for the next two days. It was Tuesday morning and I was aroused from my sleep by the smell of cooking bacon. I walked into the kitchen and sat next to Mr. Monroe's feet. He gave me a half- hearted smile.

"Good morning, Harold," he said. I gave him a look that said feed me. He slipped me a piece of bacon before sitting down at the table. Toby and Pete walked in and sat at the table.

"Any news from the police?" Toby asked. Mr. Monroe shook his head and the boy hung his head. I walked over to him and set my head on his lap. He rested his hands on my head and rubbed the top of my head. Mrs. Monroe came into the kitchen and everyone ate their breakfast in silence. I ate my breakfast and joined Howie and Chester in the living room. I curled up on my rug and took a nice nap.

"Uncle Harold! Wake up!" Howie called in my ear. I wrinkled my nose and slowly opened my eyes. The young dog was sitting and wagging his rear end frantically. "Uncle Harold! Pop has an idea on how to get Bunnicula back!" I slowly stood and looked at Chester sitting in his chair. He met my gaze and sat erect.

"Good Harold, your up," he said. I tried rolling my eyes before walking over to him. I noticed an open book was in front of him and groaned inwardly. He slowly closed it and this time I groaned audibly. He glared before addressing the two dogs below him.

"What book is that, Pops?" Howie asked.

"I finished reading Frankenstein last night to get more background information. Then I found this." He lifted it to reveal the cover to us. "_The Big Book of Monsters_. They had a fascinating section on your heritage, Howie." Howie gave him a weird look and I gave him a look to shut him up. When we had first went to Chateau Bow-Wow, we met Howie's parents, who Chester still is convinced are part werewolf (resulting in him thinking Howie is also part werewolf).

Chester cleared his throat and went back to the book. "It had an entire section devoted to Dr. Frankenstein and his monster. So I've come to the conclusion that Dr. Greenbriar is our Dr. Frankenstein, and Jill is his Igor." I stared up at him in disbelief. "He was so fascinated with Bunnicula that he decided to steal him. So he and Jill created this Monster to take away our vampire bunny and he would be clear from any of the blame because the Monster would leave no finger prints." I started laughing. I couldn't help myself, but this all sounded so utterly ridiculous that it just came out. Chester glared at me again bared his teeth a little. Howie just looked confused.

"What's so funny, Uncle Harold?" he asked. I wiped my eyes with my paw and forced myself to stop laughing. I hiccupped from the effort and looked at Howie.

"It's just this ridiculous! Why would you think Dr. Greenbriar stole Bunnicula? He has treated us and the family very well, especially when Bunnicula was ill. Why would he wait until now to take Bunnicula when he has had so many times to take him before?" I questioned.

"Because he wanted to gain our trust Harold. Don't you see? Once he had the families full trust, he and Jill would make their Monster and have it steal him," Chester countered. "I have a plan to get Bunnicula back." He hopped down and stood in front of us. "Tomorrow the family will be gone from eight am to ten thirty pm. They will be going to a movie. So we will act tomorrow," he said.

"What is the plan?" I asked him. He gave me a sly smile and started to walk away.

"Just be ready at eight o'clock tomorrow morning," Chester said before he walked around the corner.

I sighed and curled up on my rug. Howie laid down next to me and I fell into a slumber listening to Howie's rumbling snore.


	4. Chester's Mission

I awoke early the next morning and decided I wanted to watch the sunrise. When I walked outside, Chester was on the porch. I sat next to him and we sat in silence as the sun rose above the horizon. It was very nice to just sit with my best friend in silence. We heard the Monroe's moving around and I could smell Mrs. Monroe cooking eggs and sausage. I followed Chester into the kitchen and we ate our breakfast.

"Mom, do you think the animals will be ok since we will be gone for so long?" Toby asked.

"Cry baby," Pete said meanly. Toby stuck his tongue out at his older brother and Pete threw a bit of egg at him.

"Boys, stop," Mrs. Monroe said calmly but sternly. She looked at Pete. "Pete, your brother has a legit reason to worry about the pets. And Toby I'm sure they will be." Toby nodded and Mr. Monroe looked at the clock.

"Well guys, time to go to school," he said, standing up. The boys stood and walked out of the kitchen with their father. Mrs. Monroe quickly washed off the dishes and put them in the dishwasher before leaving, too.

"Be good you three," she said before walking out the door. We heard the lock slid into place and the cars start. Chester had us wait till he knew they were gone.

"Okay, since they are gone I can fully reveal my plan," Chester said. "We are going to break into Dr. Greenbriar's home and find Bunnicula." I felt my mouth fall open.

"What!" I exclaimed. Chester didn't seem ruffled at all with my outburst, so I pressed on. "Do we even know where he lives?" I asked.

"I was going to get to that before I was interrupted," he said. I tried to think of a snappy comeback, but, as you know, it takes me awhile to come up with them. So I remained quiet and let Chester explain. "The Monroe's were invited to dinner with the good doctor in two days time. He gave them his address and the time they need to arrive." He pulled the card out from under his chair. We leaned over to read what it said.

I would enjoy it if you joined me at my home on Friday, September 17 at 6 p.m. My address is 307 Temple Avenue.

Chester gave me a mischievous grin and continued. "I have also found our old friends Felony and Miss Demeanor to aid in our getting in his house. Once in, we find the laboratory, which is where we will find Bunnicula. We will then go back out where we came from and return our bunny friend home." A sparkle came to Chester's eyes when he spoke.

"Pop?" Howie started.

"Yes?"

"Can we go yet?" Chester and I looked at each other before the feline looked at the dachshund.

"I am sorry Howie, but you will need to stay here," Chester said. Howie leapt up in outrage before falling on his haunches in pain.

"Why?" Howie asked. In that moment he looked so pitiful, I would say yes a thousand times and let him do whatever he wanted. Chester, luckily, has the power to resist puppy dog eyes.

"Howie, you are injured. You would only slow us down and hurt yourself even more then you already have," Chester replied. "And besides," he continued, "we need someone to watch the house to make sure the monster doesn't return." This perked Howie up and bit and he nodded grudgingly.

"Alright, Pop. I'll do it for you." He saw my hurt look and quickly added, "And you, too, Uncle Harold." Chester rubbed his paws together and then made his way to the door. I followed him and turned to look at Howie. He looked miserable, and I felt a pang of sadness for him.

"Be good Howie," I said. He just nodded solemnly and then I was outside. As we walked away, it seemed like Howie's sorrowful howls followed us down the street.

We made it to Dr. Greenbriar's house around ten. He lived near the edge of High Centerville in a big house. No lights were on, telling us it was empty. We head the crash of metal and I jumped in the air. Chester, as calm and cool as ever, just turned to the sound.

"Hey, Cute Whiskers!" came the call. Chester rolled his eyes and sat. Two cats walked around the corner of an alley. Felony was the scrawnier of the two, but had most of the brains (if one could say these cats had them) and Miss Demeanor was a chubby, long haired tabby.

"Good morning Felony, Miss D," Chester greeted them. I said my hellos and Miss D sauntered up to Chester and I could tell he was trying not the shake. Chester didn't much care for these two, especially Miss D. She curled around him and gave him a wicked grin.

"So is this the place we are bustin' wide open?" Felony asked in her fake gangster accent. Chester refrained from rolling his eyes.

"Yes, and it needs to be quick and clean," Chester said. He jumped on top of a near box and Miss D gave him an angry look. "So may we please start?" Chester asked. Felony nodded excitedly and we walked the rest of the way to the property.

Chester and I sat patiently while the two cat burglars (no pun intended) tried to find a way into the fortress. Around ten minutes had passed and I became very antsy.

"Should we really be doing this?" I asked Chester. He had resorted to bathing himself.

"Do you want to save Bunnicula?" he retorted between licks. I started thinking about all what Chester told me. What if Dr. Greenbriar had taken Bunnicula? What if he had created a Monster, and now was doing terrible things to my little friend? I felt the panic rising inside of me and was about to tell Chester when a yowl of excitement reached our ears. We ran to the sound to see Miss D sitting on an open window sill.

"You who, Cute Whiskers! We found your opening!" She called in a sing song voice. This time Chester rolled his eyes using his whole head.

"Um, Chester?" I started to ask.

"Yes, Harold?"

"How am I supposed to get up there?" I said. The window was about five feet off the ground, and I am not the puppy I used to be. Chester thought this over, looking around the area.

"Aha!" he cried. He walked over to a pile of milk crates and smiled at me. "If we assemble these so that you can jump up and into the window," he said. I helped him drag them over the ground and about a foot from the edge of the sill. He easily sailed up and onto the window.

"Thank you ladies, we are no longer in need of your assistance," Chester said to the two cats. Felony started to walk away but Miss D stayed on the sill by Chester.

"Oh Cute Whiskers, do you really want little ol' me to go?" she purred. Chester gagged slightly at her closeness and nodded.

"Yes, Miss D, in order to do my job you will have to leave," he said. She was about to say more when Felony spoke.

"Come on, Miss Demeanor, we need to get a move on or we will miss _The Young and The Restless_." This caused Miss D to jump down onto the street and rush after Felony. She turned and blew a kiss at Chester.

"Shall we meet again, Cute Whiskers," she called as they disappeared around the corner. Chester shook his head and looked down at me.

"Are you coming or what?" he called. I took a running start at the crates and the launched myself into the window. Unfortunately, only half of me made it in. Chester laughed at me with his eyes.

"Be quiet, you," I said.

"I haven't said anything," he chuckled. I glared before maneuvering my back end to allow me to get in. I fell in head over heels, and I shook my head clear of the stars that spun around my head.

"Chester?" I whispered. "Where did you go?" I felt claws in my backside and I jumped away from the source. Chester looked like a half flattened pancake. "Now, Chester, this is no time to be laying around," I said. He rolled over and glared at me.

"I wouldn't if you cared to loose a few pounds," he snapped. I was hurt by his comment but understood why he said it. We walked through the corridors of the home and found almost nothing. Except the locked room.

"This is it!" Chester cried in delight. "Don't you hear that, Harold?" I listened closely and heard a buzzing noise. Chester looked at me, a mad gleam in his eyes. "We found his laboratory! That is where we'll find Bunnicula!" He leapt up and grabbed to door handle. He swung back and forth but to no avail.

"Is it locked?" I asked. He jumped down and slammed his paw down.

"Drat," was all he could say before we heard it. A deep, thundering growl that still instills fear within my heart. We slowly turned to see the most scarred up dog I have ever seen. He seemed to be of the rottweiler variety, and he was the one making that menacing sound. "Run!" Chester screamed, and we ran.

We made it to the window and I jumped with all my might. I landed with a thud on the pavement and I turned to look at the window I had just escaped from. A long line of slobber ran from his jaws as he barked viciously at us. I looked at Chester and saw the horror written on his face.

"Lets go home," I suggested.


End file.
